A good dog makes the hunt

Fritz, my German Shorthair pointer, was casting back and forth across a stubble field over 30 years ago. Nothing fast or fancy, but his stubby bobbed tail was wiggling and that meant he was getting birdy.

The dog had a vacuum cleaner for a nose, and he always worked the wind and made certain he was between heavy cover and the bird. This old ringneck pheasant had cackled several times that morning, and we were a team: he was old enough to know what I wanted and how to deliver it.

The sun was just up on the eastern horizon when Fritz pinned one of the nearby  roosters at the corner of an open field. The bird had run out of cover, and the dog was rock solid on point with the ringneck only 10 feet away.

Watching a good dog on point is one of life’s satisfying moments.

"Whoa, boy, easy now, whoa-a-a," I whispered, moving in front of the quivering dog. He was a bit off-balance on a slightly sloping side-hill, and the rooster was a bit downhill of the dog.

The gaudy rooster lifted into flight with a raucous cackle, and I swung on him at 30 yards, and with one shot the bird fell to the ground. Fritz made a perfect retrieve, looked up at me, and I waved for him to start hunting after a pat on the head.

That pointer and I teamed up on countless roosters back in those halcyon days when pheasants were quite common game birds in Michigan's southern counties. He would hunt with anyone, and some of the older neighbor kids would come to borrow him if I was unable to hunt because I was packaging books to be mailed or on a magazine deadline.

The joys of pointing dogs was something I learned many years ago. Name the breed, and I've hunted over them at one time or another. Some of the key moments of my upland bird hunting career has come while following the wanderings of a fine-hunting pointer, retriever or setter.

I've thrilled to the off-balance points, the birds that held off to one side of the dog that results in a rather lopsided point, and some of those times when the conditions are just right and the pointer did his thing from 20 to 30 yards away.

It never ceases to amaze me what a good bird dog can teach a hunter if that person only pays attention. I've watched dogs work a field, hesitate for a moment, and continue to comb the field for scent. Suddenly, after long minutes without finding a bird, the dog slams into a point as stiff and rigid as a stone statue in the local park.

A good hunting dog can teach hunters more about their sport if they pay attention.

There's just something about a pointer that makes me smile. Miss a bird, and some of the better pointers look back as if to say "how could you miss such an easy shot." Other dogs seem to take the frequent or occasional miss in stride. It's those dogs that look at you after a miss that always make me wonder what is going through their head.

Once Fritz was gone, I decided not to buy another hunting dog. I was constantly on the road in those days, chasing stories for the outdoor magazines. I knew that to own another dog would mean the animal would be subjected to languishing in its kennel most of the year.

That's wouldn't be fair to a good dog. It was easier to hunt with other people who did own a good pointer, which gave me ample opportunities to watch lots of good (and bad) dog work.

I hunted once with the honorable Charlie Elliott, a common name among readers of Outdoor Life magazine. Charlie was in his 70s back then, and the two pointers combed through the pea fields and in nearby low cover for quail, and it didn't take us long to find a covey.

Hunting Georgia quail with Charlie Elliott.

"Go get 'em," Charlie said, and I had just stuffed two 12-gauge shotgun shells into my new Winchester 101. I walked in front of the lead dog as the other pointer backed him, and both were as motionless as if cast in marble. A covey of quail went up, and I knew enough not to try flock shooting.

I spotted one quail scooting off to the left, swung on it, shot and the bird fell. Next the shotgun caught up with a late-flushing bird heading off to starboard, and I swung through the bird and dropped him at 35 yards.

"Nice shooting," Elliott said. Little did he know that those two shots were the first out of my new shotgun. The compliment was graciously delivered, and accepted. Elliott then proceeded to give me a sound lesson in shooting quail birds.

There have been grouse, pheasant, quail and woodcock hunts, and often the dogs of choice were pointers. Some are as flashy as a new movie star, and others are old and dependable as well-trained dogs should be.

It's not the game birds taken that make the hunt for me. It's the joys received by watching good pointers work the cover like a well-oiled machine.

They have a job to do, and of late, they handle their assignment far better than I handle mine. What these pointers don't know is that over 59 years of bird hunting with dogs, it's watching fine dog work that pleases me most.

Shooting a game bird during the open season is really anticlimatic to a wonderful hunt.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors